


I Wanna Hold Your Hand

by suigenic



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Hogwarts AU, M/M, ghost!Marco, kind of sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-27
Updated: 2014-11-02
Packaged: 2018-01-06 09:19:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1105105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suigenic/pseuds/suigenic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean is a first-year Slytherin and Marco is a long-dead one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It had been about a week and his heart was already aching for more.

Jean had read his school books, re-read them, and enlisted that wimpy Ravenclaw kid for help, but it was impossible. There were no spells to make a ghost solid again. 

"It was worth a try," Marco told him soothingly. Jean knew that he, too, was aching for a touch that was more than a cool breeze-like sensation, but he didn't seem as put down about the failure. "Magic can't do everything, you know. It can't bring the dead back." 

"I know it can't, but it could at least do something as simple as this!" Jean snapped. He ran a hand through his short hair and fussed with his green Slytherin tie- a nervous habit he'd picked up from his ghostly friend. "Dammit, Marco, you've been dead for _decades_ and you haven't been able to touch anyone or anything, and I get grouchy when I spent too long in the library alone studying. How can you stand it?" 

Marco shrugged, floating peacefully in the air slightly above him. He was a nice sort of translucent, with darker flecks that indicated he once had freckles, and eyes that sparkled with life. Or afterlife. He seemed different from the other ghosts, more real somehow. "There are other ghosts," he said. "We can sort of touch. It's not like it used to be, but it's more solid than touching someone that's still alive." 

"So you're rubbing up on Moaning Myrtle, is that it?" Jean joked. 

Marco sank back to the floor, crossing his legs. If it wasn't for the color and slight transparency, he almost looked like a regular student again. "No, she's not my type," he laughed. "I don't get along well with other people, and especially not girls." 

Jean's heart did something sideways and painful in his chest. "Me either," he said lamely. 

Marco gave Jean a surprised look as he leaned forward to kiss him- 

except he didn't. 

His chapped lips went right through the ghost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ugh ugh ugh this is my first time writing anything like this im so sorry


	2. Chapter 2

Marco smiled lovingly as Jean fell asleep on his homework.

Again.

It was weird, but he looked different when he was asleep. He was peaceful, the scowl absent from his face and frown lines smoothed out. He drooled a bit on his parchment, but it was cute because it was Jean drool, and oh man did Marco have it bad if he thought drool was cute.

Marco tried to imagine, for a very brief moment, what it would be like if Jean was a ghost. Wizards and witches only came back as ghosts when something troubling was keeping them tied to a location, and that fact haunted Marco; although he wanted to be able to touch and caress Jean, he didn't want him to be stuck in a half-life because something wasn't letting him go.

On the other hand, they could finally touch, and the already-pale boy would look lovely with translucent skin...

He touched Jean's lips with ghostly fingertips, wishing he could kiss him. Jean murmured in his sleep at the cold touch, and Marco's heart melted.

Very, very carefully, Marco placed his hand on top of Jean's. He hovered just slightly above, so it appeared that their hands were touching. If he pretended, he could almost feel the boy's warm hand underneath his cold dead one.

The noise of a dropped book and muffled swear made Marco jump. He quickly made himself invisible and floated upwards, where he was out of the way.

A small blond Ravenclaw boy set down a disproportionately large pile of books down on Jean's table- it was amazing that he could carry them all. He jostled his friend lightly, stirring him from his sleep.

"Marco...?" he yawned, rubbing at his eyes.

"No, just me," Armin said, sitting down and opening one of the large books. "I'm supposed to help you with your homework, remember?"

Jean nodded, glancing up to Marco's usual hiding place. He let himself solidify for a moment to wave goodbye before floating off. 

Stupid shy ghost and his stupid cute freckles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you asked for it you brought this upon yourselves
> 
> theres one more chapter coming tw death/suicide maybe??


	3. Chapter 3

Jean scowled into his scarf as he clubbed a Bludger away from his teammates. Quidditch was fun, and he knew he was an excellent Beater, but it was cold as the dickens and the damn announcer couldn't stay on topic. It was only to be expected, though, as Connie was announcing and Hanji distracted him more often than not, despite her job to keep him focused.

Slytherin was down 20 points, but it didn't matter, as their Seeker almost always caught the Snitch. The trick was to not let Gryffindor score too many points before then- they had an aggressive team, and Quidditch was the only thing that they had going for them.

Speaking of aggressive, Jean swooped upwards just in time to avoid a Bludger. Eren, one of Gryffindor's Beaters, whooped at coming so close to hitting him, and Jean seethed. He pressed flat to his broom, heading in a steep dive to catch up with the offending chunk of metal and knock his opponent off of his broom.

He didn't quite register the second Bludger that Eren had aimed at him.

There was a shout from the audience as he was slammed from behind. His broom was instantly splintered, launching the Slytherin headfirst toward the ground. Jean's shout of surprise was suddenly and sickeningly cut off.

For a moment everything was black. He didn't think his heart was beating.

Then everything came back, slowly and foggily.

There, down below him, was a cluster of his teammates holding their brooms. Jean started to wave but froze when he saw his hand. Translucent. Dead. Very, very dead.

There he was. His body, at least. The neck was tilted at a horribly wrong angle. His eyes were open in an expression of shock. Some of the splinters that had once been his broom had impaled his hand- the rest were scattered around, people making an effort to not step on them. Like they were still worth something.

Jean sunk to the ground, putting his hand in his hands. Someone closed his body's eyes and covered his face with his scarf. Eren was clearly in shock, tears running silently down his face as Mikasa tried to comfort him. Armin was outright sobbing, unabashed by his display of emotion.

Sasha and Connie, matching with their yellow scarves, silently gathered up the fragments of his broom. Someone cast a spell on his body and it floated eerily in front of the students as they made their way back to the school to mourn.

Jean wondered idly if he was obligated to attend his own funeral.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so yeah jean died


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Together at last.

The next few days were... strange. Jean sulked around the common room, not yet strong enough to be seen, but stuck in a sort of limbo watching his classmates mourn. It was too quiet, none of the playful teasing that characterized his house ringing through the corridors. 

He kept forgetting that he could control floating, and as a result was walked through several times, which he discovered was quite unpleasant. A few students had started to see ethereal wisps of mist, but no solid form. He struggled to make himself seen, to talk and laugh with his friends again.

And then he remembered Marco, and tore through the school shouting for him.

In an unused portion of school, he was floating in the sun, glowing faintly in a near-angelic scene. His eyes were closed, enjoying the little bit of warmth the physical world had to offer. Jean was motionless for a moment, absorbing everything- the sweep of his hair, each perfectly placed freckle on his pale skin. He was clearer now that they were both dead, and Jean took a silent stop forward as Marco's eyes opened.

"Jean?" Marco asked sleepily. Jean didn't even know ghosts could sleep. He nodded and came closer, walking instead of drifting. Out of habit, Marco reached up to caress his cheek, and jumped slightly when their ghostly skin made contact. It was... strange, not quite cold but not warm either, but felt undeniably amazing after being touch-starved for a week. Jean swallowed, waiting for the realization to sink in.

"I can touch you," Marco said, happy but confused. "Oh, it feels good... I haven't touched anyone in so long, you wouldn't believe how long it's been-"

"I died," the younger ghost interrupted.

They were both silent for a moment. Tears welled in Marco's eyes- Jean didn't know ghosts could cry, either- as he embraced him tightly, holding on to him as if they didn't have all the time in the world. They stayed like that for a long moment, just enjoying each others touch before the freckled boy pulled away.

"You stayed as a ghost... for me?" Marco whispered. "I was keeping you back?"

Jean's impaled hand found Marco's freckled one. "I wouldn't have it any other way," he said simply.

Their lips met for real this time, solid and soft against each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Sorry it took me forever to get around to writing the last bit of this. I'm currently working on NaNoWriMo, my username is the same as AO3, check it out!


End file.
